Bougárov (protesting): It isn’t liquor at all, honoured Stepan Stepanovitch. It’s poison, my dearest little frog. I told you it wasn’t vodka, and you wouldn’t believe me.
Rumbunkski (in wild horror): Poison. Where’s an emetic?... I can’t see.... My head’s going to burst.... Now my heart’s come to pieces. My nose is twitching. Both my eyes are falling out. Ah—h——(falls into a chair sobbing hysterically).
Bougárov (yelling): He’s poisoned. I’m a rat-catcher ... we’re all murderers.... Little Fathers, have pity! (Enter Irena Ivanovna, Bougárov’s daughter.) There. Your husband to be. I’ve murdered him. Lock me up. Suffocate yourself. Tickle his throat. Give him mustard and water. A drink. I’m fainting. Quick. (She gives him the glass from the desk. He drains it.) Pouagh! Now I’m poisoned too.... My ears have gone to sleep.... All my teeth are aching. I’m agony all over (collapses on the sofa screaming).
Irena Ivanovna (wildly): Vodka—Champagne—Mustard and Water. (She plies them with assorted liquors, which they drink gratefully. They are shaken by internal tempests. They recover slowly.)
Bougárov (faintly): Give thanks to Irena Ivanovna, my dear Stepan Stepanovitch. Without the presence of mind of your wife-to-be you’d be a dead man, my little angel-elect.
Rumbunkski (feebly): I say no. I’ve told you I won’t marry her. Impugn my honour and all that. A thousand times no.
Irena (tenderly): Nobody’s impugned your honour, illustrious Stepan Stepanovitch. Your mind is affected by the poison, my little darling.
Rumbunkski: No. He did (indicates Bougárov). He accuses me of waylaying Dmitri Dmitriov. Not that he has any right to talk after what was done to Andrey Andreyvitch.
Bougárov (as violently as he is able): Now I give you one chance, Stepan Stepanovitch. Either stop these insinuations or leave my house. Yes. I’m sick of you. Yes. I’ve had enough. Enough, I say.
Rumbunkski (staggering): I’ll go. Yes. I’d better go. I’m fainting with pain, and I’ve such a bilious attack I can hardly move without nausea; but I’d sooner suffer any torments than put up with false friends.